Elevator
by PenguinOfTroy
Summary: The doors closed them in. Together...Alone. Alone in a twenty-five square foot box. And she was looking at him with those eyes. Dark, hooded...hungry. M for a reason. ONE-SHOT


_DISCLAIMER: "Castle" and all its wonderful characters are the property of ABC and Andrew Marlowe. Much as I enjoy playing with them, I unfortunately do not own them. Please don't sue me._

**Rated M for a reason – kiddies turn back now.**

There was something different. The way she smiled at him. The way she laughed, throaty and rich. It's like a switch had been flipped somewhere. It was different. It made him that little bit crazy.

And she knew it.

She had to know. Because when she stepped into the elevator ahead of him, she threw a smile over her shoulder. Casual, but alluring in the way only Kate Beckett could be.

It was late. The doors closed them in. Together...Alone. Alone in a twenty-five square foot box. And she was looking at him with those eyes. Dark, hooded...hungry.

The crazy swirled in his veins, stirring up desires that he kept locked up for his own sanity. He was supposed to give her space. He was supposed to give her time. But the spark of her gaze said something else. It said that space was overrated, the time was now. And as he inched towards her, bringing his fingers up to brush the curve of her throat, he could only hope that he wasn't completely misreading the situation. Because there was so much he wanted from her. But this – the soft skin, the shallow breath, the parting lips - this was too much to restrain.

Her breath hitched. The lightness of his touch, the meticulous way he drew his fingers in a line to her jaw sent a jolt through her and she had to close her eyes for a brief second. Gather control. But the moment she opened her eyes there he was. So close. His breath tickling her cheek. Hovering in her personal space. Waiting for permission. The air between them charged hot. The blood drummed in her ears, nearly drowning out the sound of the elevator's humming decline

"Castle..." Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips. And the crazy roared at the sight.

He brought his lips to hers, rough and demanding. Storming the figurative beach, he forced her to retreat a couple steps until her back hit the smooth metal wall with a thud – she gasped into his mouth and he rebuffed his attack because that sound drove him crazy as well. It poured gasoline on the fire that was already licking at his skin and pulsing through his veins.

Her hands gripped his lapel, pulling him along, keeping him flush against her. All the while their lips and tongues battled.

And that's what it was. A battle. For what prize, he couldn't be sure. But he sure as hell wasn't going to lose. Failure was not an option. Not when his fingers were threaded through her silky hair like he'd dreamed so many times. Not when her heaving chest pressed against him like that. Not when his entire being was buzzing, desperate for more, for victory.

Every floor they passed brought with it a soft ping, a countdown towards the end of their delirium. But the sound was muffled by their panting and the amplified ruffle of dislodged clothing.

Rick allowed her to jerk his coat from his shoulders before he tugged impatiently at her blouse. His thumb toyed with the skin just above her waistline as it became exposed, eliciting a ragged breath and the hint of a whimper.

He knew the doors would open soon and reveal them to whoever might be waiting for a ride up from the parking garage. He knew he should stop...but the thought of being caught just spurred him on. It heightened his senses, heightened the urgency with which his hands took in the expanse of the skin hidden beneath her shirt. He wanted more - more gasps, more tastes of her minty mouth and salty skin. And he was going to get his fill before this dream ended.

Kate moved in a haze. Barely conscious, not capable of thought or deliberation. This was crazy, ill-advised, sure to cause trouble down the line. But his hands were setting her skin alight and his teeth nibbling at her neck were erasing every doubt. _Don't think, just do_. So she did.

But a final ding broke through the fog.

And the elevator doors slid apart.

Their flurry of pawing hands and gnashing teeth came to a grinding halt, the mercifully deserted stretch of concrete visible in the corner of their vision.

They stood frozen, breath mixing, hearts hammering, eyes fixed. Either one could have made the first move, severed the connection and escaped into the gray of the parking garage. Either one could have ended this madness, left it locked away in that space, another memory to be ignored.

But the seconds ticked by. Neither moved. And with a whir the doors came together again.

And so did they. Encased in their own twenty-five square foot world. The interruptions and the blockades sealed behind several inches of solid metal. Waiting for a better location, better timing wasn't an option. Good timing was for people who didn't have the universe interfering at every turn.

She clawed at his belt buckle. He fumbled with the buttons of her blouse. Piece by piece their clothing gave way to flesh. Shivering, tingling, burning flesh.

There was no time to think. For once they let things go, no over thinking or analyzing. No second thoughts.

As he hoisted her up against the hand rail, she wrapped her legs around his waist. The delicious pressure of her weight against him drove him wild. She nipped at his ear, her shaky exhale burning him. Urging him forward.

Shuddering and breathless, they moved against one another. The fire growing until nothing existed in the world but friction and heat and skin.

Her heartbeat was agonizingly fast and the blood poured through her veins so swiftly that her limbs throbbed. Static crawled over every inch of her skin, hypersensitive and sparking at his touch. The muscles in her thigh convulsed where his hand gripped her tightly.

The sensation was too much, too intense. She couldn't handle the overload as every nerve-ending fired in sequence.

She buried her face in the curve of his shoulder, bit down to smother a cry.

Try as she might, she couldn't stop the rattling of her teeth as her body succumbed to the tremors.

It was blinding, the way she shuddered around him. The way her nails clamped down through his shirt. Maddening. Amazing. Extraordinary. Adjectives were inadequate. This was. It just _was_.

Seconds ran out of order. Every image, every sensation, every moment blurred into one. She pressed her quivering lips to his ear and he breathed harshly into her hair, choking on a silent scream.

They stilled. Inhaling and exhaling in time. Cheek to cheek. Drawing out the moment before they had to face something beyond heavy limbs and the satisfaction of exhaustion.

He dared to pull back, attempted to catch her eye, wondering if they'd finally gone too far. He suspected they'd reached the point of no return. No, he knew they had. The question stood: was this the bitter end, a last hurrah before they parted ways? Or was this just a beginning, a crazy, spontaneous spark to push them down the path he'd waited so long for?

She looked up in the same moment, found his eyes still in a stupor, but held his gaze all the same. She quirked the side of her lip up, almost like a shrug. Then she leaned up to place a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth, still raw and pulsing.

She lingered for a beat.

"Next time, let's do it without the elevator."

**A/N – For fooxoo, because she wanted a lemon and I needed the challenge. Thanks to dave-ck for believing.**

**As always, please review. Even a simple "like" or "dislike" is more than appreciated.**

**Fight On and You'll Never Walk Alone**


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